


there is no running that can hide you

by HelmetParty



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Dark, Eggpreg, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18855904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelmetParty/pseuds/HelmetParty
Summary: Something is changing within the Entity's world. Whoever is unlucky enough to get caught might just never make it out alive. **HEED THE TAGS**





	1. MIA

**Author's Note:**

> Endgame is stupid and doesn't exist here.

 At the time, nobody could tell you how, but something was changing, and they felt it. Nothing in particular was different; trials were the same old 'run, hide, try not to die and if you have to, leave your friends behind'. The campfire was still normal, as well. Fights, arguments, generally low spirits with the occasional happy moments drowned out by the innate despair they all felt twenty four seven. Closer to the beginning of them all being trapped in this Hell it was a little easier to keep spirits, but now it was a fight nobody seemed up to anymore. Even David, ever so positive and energetic David, lost that flare of anger that kept them all just a little bit above the waves.

 Maybe that was it, then. The balance of taut hopefulness and grief slowly descending to the former.

 Being around the campfire was just as so. Constant arguments and the occasional fist fight when warranted (or not), but mostly deafening silence. Maybe that was their way of coping; yelling, screaming, _something_ , just _anything_ to fill the endless void of deafening nothingness that plagued each and every single one of them, no matter how hard you tried to pretend it didn't. The crackling of the fire was their only barrier to that and God it was paper thin. Beyond that and the occasional howl off in the distance and the distorted music of bugs, there was nothing.

 There was always nothing.

 Sometimes, hopes we're rejuvenated. A new survivor would wander into their little camp, and then it would be all eyes on them. Mostly, it was just something new. A new face to keep attention away from the silence, someone new to train. 

 "We can get through this," Jane speaks without sounding even a little distressed. She's pacing back and fourth and running her fingers through her hair, trying to look at every single one of them as they sat. "We can all get through this alive. We'll find a way out."

 They all admired her for the act. Hell, the way she spoke, she might have even convinced a few of them.

 Ash came next. He's an older dude who doesn't say much; mostly a sly remark here or there, some basic uplifting or bad-ass comments every now and then, but ultimately, he would fall to the same curse that had them all.

 The new faces around the fire kept them all happy for a bit. The fighting persisted, yes, but it was lessened. They had other things to talk about now. Jane was a woman with a lot of things to say, and most of those things we're good and positive. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and a pair of eyes that could easily convey real, genuine emotion. She quickly took to being a counselor for the group, and it was something they had all desperately needed. 

 "Let's go in a circle and say one thing on our mind. It can be anything. A memory, a random fact, your favorite food, anything. No wrong answers."

 People like David and Laurie excused themselves. Others stayed but didn't participate, or gave sarcastic, unwilling answers. No matter if you found it annoying or not, you couldn't argue that she was at least trying.

 "Let's start with Claudette." Jane gives a friendly smile to the woman who sits beside her. Claudette wasn't known for being outward or inherently social, but she looked a lot more nervous than usual.

 "Oh, me? S-sure. Um..." She stares at the ground and itches her cheek. "I'm not really...I'm not really sure what to say."

 "That's alright. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to." Jane reaches over and touches her shoulder gently, taking her hand away just as quickly has she had done it. "Maybe you could just tell us how you're feeling?"

 Even with Claudette's darker skin, it was easy to tell she was flushed. "Just...you know, like everyone. Scared? Tired? I-I think, just, not great, but like, um, happy I can sometimes help a little?"

 She's stuttering and not really looking anyone in the eye - she did that when she was put on the spot or startled. Jane nods along, muttering 'mhm's and 'yeah's. She waits a few seconds after Claudette is done talking to respond. "That's perfectly normal," she starts, putting her hand on Claudette's shoulder once more, this time leaving it there. Claudette looks at Jane, head still down, but a tiny smile reaching at the corner of her lips. "You're always looking out for everyone. I haven't known you that long, but I think you're a really strong and kind person. It's okay to be afraid."

 Claudette moves her hair behind her ear and nods. She can't help but smile like an idiot.

 Jane smiles and nods at Claudette, going back to holding her own hands in her lap. She eyes around the fire and looks to the man who sat on the bare ground next to Claudette.

 "Jake, right? You're up."

 Jake, who had been staring into the fire without even so much as glancing away, shrugs. He still doesn't part his eyes, and instead stays silent and still.

 "You don't have to say anything, but I'm sure everyone here is itching to know how you're doing."

 Usually temperamental but silent, Jake tried to hold in a scoff but failed. Jane's brows raises. She knew the people here to be somewhat...like _that_ , maybe from the exhaustion and cynicism that had been sanded down trial after trial and death after death, but she didn't know really anything about Jake until that moment. A single sarcastic smile was all it took to tell her everything she needed to know.

 "Well, regardless about what you think, _I_ care about how you're doing."

 "No you don't."

 "Why do you think that?"

 He scoffs again. He's tired and pissed tonight, more so than usual. He had been one of the unlucky ones as of late that was put into trial after trial with little to no rest period in between. He barely slept anymore whereas even Quentin could afford a nap now and then. All he wanted was to be close to the warmth of the fire and just fucking rest for a minute, simply exist, but he couldn't even have that.

 "You're new here and you want to pretend like you know how it is. You want everyone to think you care so you'll get saved more often." Even he didn't really believe that, but he was too damn exhausted to really give a shit. The entire time he talks, Jane sits patiently, nodding along. "Nobody here gives a shit about anyone else. Stop pretending like it's- like anyone cares."

 "Do you think that nobody cares about you?"

 He shakes his head sarcastically, an angry grin plastered on his face. His eyes still have yet to meet anyone else's. He goes to move to get up, tired head ready to just sulk in in the treeline, alone. "I think this is really, really fucking dumb."

 Everyone watches in silence as Jake walks away. Even Jane doesn't say anything, instead she shakes her head and sighs. "It's fine. Let's just continue. Fen, is it?" "Feng." "Feng, right, sorry. You're next. How are you coping?"

 The conversation drowns out the further he walks. Jake's hands go to his pocket, the absence of the fire a loss he wish he didn't have to take. The fog is thick and cold as he walks into the woods, looking for his spot along the treeline.

 When Jake doesn't show up the next day, if you could call it that, nobody thinks anything of it. With his luck, it was probably just another trial, or at the very least, didn't feel up to socializing or being around anyone. He was a lone wolf like that.

 Concern only sparks when they realize that each and every single one of them were present and accounted for, and he wasn't in his spot on the outskirts.


	2. you're supposed to bleed the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eggs!

The last thing Jake could remember is the fog. 

Like trials, it consumed him. It's what he thought was happening, too; the only other time the fog had surrounded him it meant trial time, so the implication now was different didn't even cross his mind. He takes his hands out of his pockets and holds onto his arms, trying to keep his balance for the transition to wherever he would be pitted against an unkillable psycho next. It was disorientating and a lot dizzying, something he had learned to cope with but was ultimately not something he would ever get used to. He holds on for the ride as the loud whirring of the wind filled his senses, and then suddenly, it stops. 

Jake was a man with good instincts. He developed them as a child pitted against dire situations and only heightened them during his time at the cabin and most certainly during his time here. The moment the wind stopped, his stomach dropped. Something was wrong and he knew it before he even opened his eyes.

Grey's and dark yellows fill his vision. He's starting what looks to be a concrete wall, rusty and foul, only confirmed when he reaches out to touch it. It's cold despite the humid heat, something he finds shocking but actually somewhat comforting. He turns around and sees two more concrete walls; each are stationed with a metal door and a small vent next to them, giving visibility into those rooms. He goes to look through them and sees the exact same repeat as if someone had just hit.copy and paste.

 In front was a barred gate of some sort. There's a door, too. He walks to it and tries to open it, but finds it's locked tight. He tries to pull it open, but it was clearly not going to happen.

A cage. A concrete cage is where he was, a realization that didn't take but a moment to set in; this was no trial. He starts to panic as he realizes he's unable to get out, a shiver of fear coming somewhere deep inside of him, the sudden thought that he wouldn't be able to escape fills him with a helplessness he's never felt before.

While his first instinct is to cry and scream for help, he figures against it. That's just his panic talking, it wouldn't help. He puts his face against the bars and tries to look as far as he could, just to see a location, but there's so much tree and brush it's nearly impossible. There is a thin line between the cages and the woods so thick you couldn't see in, a place where someone might walk by and check on whatever is in the cages.

How sick, how  _ perverted. _

He's starting to hyperventilate. He soothes himself by taking deep breaths, but it was barely working. His rational mind told him that freaking out wasn't going to help, but his survival mind was telling him to run.

He walks towards the door to his left. There is no handle so he simply tries to pull on the metal gate at the top to no avail; locked tight, just like the front.

There was still one more door. Even if it didn't work, he would find a way out - he didn't have a choice. This was probably just some stupid new puzzle to freak them all out, a prelude to a new trial area. 

Before he even makes it to the other side of the room, something grabs his foot. Instantly he looks down at it and, to his horror, a black goopy puddle had appeared on the ground and from it came a spiky limb. Had that been there the whole time? No, he would have noticed it. He doesn't ponder on the logistics but instead goes to take a step away only to be bombarded by another limb from a separate, new goopy hole in the ground. Just as fast as they appeared the holes expanded, growing into a singular mass,, a sudden mess of entangled limbs and monstrous hands grabbing and prodding at him. 

"Stop!" He screams, but it does nothing. The things easily overpower him, their sharp edges cutting and ripping as they grew and grabbed. His jacket is the first to be torn from him, but his pants follow suit. They rip his clothes into a million pieces and force him to spend his legs and open his body as if he were to give a hug. 

He rants and roars in protest, feeling suddenly a lot more vulnerable than he had ever been. The hot fog feels wet on his skin and combined with the coldness of the Entity's limbs he's sure he'll pass out due to shock.

Suddenly, everything becomes oddly still. The limbs still move and make meaty gushing sounds, but they don't move as quickly. He takes the moment of peace to observe them; black, mostly, shiny with goo and red in places. Most of them looked sharp, some even cut his skin to the point of bleeding, but most were oddly careful. While they held him tightly the only one that scared him in particular was the one wrapped around his neck.

Suddenly, from just beyond his legs, there's another one. Bigger, darker, rounder. Unlike the others it has no coloration, no sharp edges or pointy ends. It's maybe the width of his wrist, a little more, a little less. It's shiny and dripping  _ something _ , end pulsing and oozing. There was...an opening of some sort, a puckered hole that twitched and jerked. The creature seemed almost worm like in a way.

His breath hitches in his throat as the creature touches his skin. The initial contact makes his skin crawl with goosebumps; the flesh is cold and wet, sticky almost, nearly freezing to the touch. It comes from beyond his legs and slithers onto his groin, waving back and forth. It was acting like a dog sniffing around, and he would be lying if he wasn't absolutely terrified of what it was going to do. It looked like an alien from an eighties film, and he could only hope it was just as real.

But there was no doubt - this had to be real. You can't feel things in dreams, and they certainly weren't this vivid. 

He can feel the things skin pulse as it lays on him and sways back and forth, hole opening and closing as it did so. It's a lot heavier than it looked and Jesus  _ fuck  _ if it was even a little more to the right it would be laying in his bare dick. The last thing he wanted was for it to touch him there. 

It slithers up his stomach and up his chest, stopping for a moment to inspect his belly button and nipples. Curious for sure, he jogs down mentally, which was terrifying. He felt like an experiment, and God only knew what this thing did to it's experiments. Jake's heart pounds like a drum in his chest, his ears full of the sound of his own blood rushing with fear. It was getting closer and closer to his face, and the more it did the worse the thoughts became. What would it do? Go inside him like a tapeworm? Eat his face? Claw through his chest and tear out his heart? The possibilities seemed endless, and with an imagination as fluent as his, it was easy to get lost under the waves.

It reaches his neck. How far this thing went on for was beyond him. It definitely seemed to be alive, how could it  _ not _ be, meaning it had a start and an end. Jake tries to crane his neck to see if he could find it's end, or at the very least what it's attached to. It's a fruitless effort, however, as the limbs of the Entity hold him tightly in place, giving his neck a jerk back down in response.

The worm stops. The opening of the creature hovers mere inches from his face and he can smell it's putrid stench, a foul mixture of decay and sickness. His nose crunches in response, his eyes closing as tears form at the edges. Alive for sure, he mentally notes. Nothing dead could smell so badly.

He holds his breath and only breathes again once he feels it swivel back down his body. Assuming it's just going back from whence it came, satisfied with what it had done, Jake lets out a sigh. He was exhausted and even though he was naked and terrified, he would be more than willing to just sleep this off and do something about it when he woke up. He didn't know why, but he was so tired that even opening his eyes seemed like a big deal he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do at that moment. He can nearly feel himself drifting away when it latches to his skin. He gasps in shock, the opening of the creature latching itself onto his ass, thankfully missing his hole or anything else important, but not by much. It's puckered (what could only be described as) lips suck at his skin, it's hollow tube encapsulating his hole but not touching it. The closest thing Jake could think of is if a cardboard toliet roll was soggy and you placed it in your skin, sucking air on the other end. It was a strange sensation, one that was both equally horrifying and unpleasant. His legs go to kick but it's no use, the Entity's spidery limbs keep him tied down like a hog.

Jake's breath hitches in his throat. What in the absolute  _ fuck _ was this thing doing? What the hell was the goal here, to make him uncomfortable? If so, it surely succeeded, it could kindly fuck off now.

Just as he's starting to get used to the feeling, something touches him - something new. A pulsating and equally wet limb perhaps, but he can't see it. It touches his hole directly and it makes him jump against his reigns; was there...was there another  _ thing  _ inside that  _ thing?! _

Yeah, this had to be a dream. Maybe this was one of those nightmares so intense you don't remember.

He could only pray he would wake up.

The tinier little creature pushes against the ring of his hole. Jake tenses, trying to make it harder for the thing to enter him, sweat rolling down his body like rain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" he whispers quickly, terrified of the possibilities of what could happen. He was at its mercy, and he couldn't strain himself like this forever.

His efforts meant nothing to the creature, it seemed. It pushes past his ring with ease, sliding into him like it was nothing. Jake clenches his eyes shut, the burning in his ass the only feeling that was real to him in that moment. It didn't slow, either; with haste it curled into him, throbbing and squirming back and forth, deeper and deeper. It didn't stop. It crawled it's way so far that Jake saw stars, vision going temporarily white, mouth lain agape but no sounds escaping his lips. This kind of feeling surprassed screaming or wailing in pain; it was, by the very definition of the word, agony. Pure agony.

He can practically feel it in his stomach. He begs himself not to but his body defies him - he snaps his eyes open and looks down at his stomach, and there it was. A little bump that slithered. It was so far inside, it was visible from the outside.

He tilts his head back and stares at the concrete sky. He's biting his lip so hard it's bleeding, tears and blood rolling down his face. Even as he quietly sobbed he tried to keep still, a desperate attempt to ease the pain even by just a little bit. Each and every single time it delved further inside of him he felt it, and God he would give anything in that moment to just  _ not _ feel. He would have given up happiness and joy and anything else for as long as he lived, but rarely does the world ease when we need it most.

It stops eventually, and when it does it's even worse. Instead of feeling something he feels nothing, just a mass that sat stationary, stretching his walls and dripping a strange wetness from his hole. To say he felt icky would be an understatement. He felt foul, disgusting,  _ invaded.  _ There's a new sensation, however; a new mass? It was...something. It was a lot larger, nearly unable to slide past his rim. It stretches the creature it's in and Jake can feel it travel inside of him, his body on fire as it forces its way down his pipes. 

The mass reaches the opening and Jake could have sworn in that moment he was sure it was vomiting inside of him. In a way, maybe it was.

Three distinct objects fall inside of him. Throaty moans of pain, unable to be held back escape his lips as his body tenses, the objects weighing his insides down. He could  _ feel _ them, nearly like golf balls, just sitting inside of his guts, dropped there like trash. It was much worse than the little creature itself; the stillness of these things was much more difficult to bear.

The creature slides out of Jake with alarming speed. It nearly rips itself out of him and Jake could swear it felt like it was ripping his intestines out with it. It exists his hole with a subtle pop, the whole ring unhinging itself from his rear. The objects left by it remain, an insanely uncomfortable and dread inducing remainder of the assault. What they were, he had no idea, but nothing could be ruled out. This world was mad, absolutely fucking mad, and whatever this creature was - this Entity - it clearly had a plan. 

At least Jake hoped it did. The only thing scarier than a mysterious inhuman creature with a plan was one without one. 

Jake could hear the slushing of the worm creature going back from whence it came. As it did, slowly but surely the other limbs that held him in place disappeared, lowering him onto the cold, concrete ground, gone into thin air as if they had never even existed there in the first place. He's left there, lying on the hard ground with no clothes or pillow, something deep inside of him resting. He tries to curl into a ball but stops as he feels the mass even more that way, instead settling for just laying on his back. He's exhausted and sweaty and mentally spent, and with nothing better to keep his mind awake, he closes his eyes and prays he passes out as quickly as possible so that he could wake up back at the campfire and laugh about the whole thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know your thoughts.  
> Expect longer chapters in the future.


End file.
